


When I Fall

by TurtleTotem



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [34]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Drunkenness, M/M, Post-Kings Rising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 21:30:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTotem/pseuds/TurtleTotem
Summary: Laurent is falling-down drunk, but Damen is there to catch him On Tumblrhere.





	When I Fall

It was very hard to tell when Laurent was drunk—even Damen might have missed it, except that he had actually  _watched_  him down glass after glass of Makedon’s griva, and thus knew it was physically impossible for him not to be drunk.

“My friends are a poor influence on you,” Damen said as he helped Laurent to his feet—still graceful and unyielding, if he had just a little bit of help.

“This was a deliberate choice,” Laurent said gravely. “It is part of a plan. Tomorrow no one will think less of me for going lighter on the griva. Perhaps abstaining altogether.”

“You impressed Makedon enough last time, I don’t think he would think less of you anyway.”

“Reputations are fragile things.”

Damen supposed it was natural that Laurent still guarded his steps so closely, among allies no less than among enemies. The habits that had preserved him for years would not be shed lightly, and perhaps not ever. But Makedon, once won over, was not shed lightly either—which was fortunate, since he had been within full hearing of Laurent’s pronouncement of his plan. He winked and raised an unsteady glass to Damen behind Laurent’s back.

Damen winked back and offered Laurent an arm, which he took with a nod of solemn gratitude. They began walking, slowly and carefully, back toward the chamber they’d been given at Makedon’s fort.

At the foot of the stone stairs, a flustered servant approached with bows and apologies.

“Exalted, forgive me for disturbing you, but one of your men is, ah, somewhat the worse for drink and is attempting, that is, we have detained him at the doorway to the maids’ quarters—”

Damen swore under his breath, propped Laurent against the wall, and took a moment to question the servant and give him orders on where to lock up the offender until he could be dealt with in the morning. When he turned back, Laurent was gone.

“You are very slow,” came Laurent’s voice from above him, and Damen saw with some horror that Laurent, now far gone enough to sway, was halfway up the unrailed staircase alone.

“Laurent, please stay there and wait for me—”

“I want my bed and you are slow.” Laurent glared narrow-eyed at his own feet, carefully raising one and advancing it to the next step.

“Laurent—”

He slipped. Damen saw it as if it were happening in honey, slow and unstoppable. Laurent’s ankle turned, he stumbled and pitched to the side, over the edge of the staircase.

Damen caught him, clumsy and unbraced so that the weight bore him to the floor with a heavy  _whumpf_.

For a moment he just lay there on his back, heart racing and breath wheezing. Laurent fought free of his arms enough to look down at him, eyes glassy and confused.

“Well, if you’d rather carry me…” He collapsed bonelessly onto Damen’s chest and immediately began to snore.

Snarling imprecations—and the occasional endearment—until the corridor echoed with them, Damen hefted Laurent over his shoulder and carried him up to bed.


End file.
